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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27737941">please deduce the stars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>why i'm going to hell (short works) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Camping, Fluff, John Watson Being an Idiot, M/M, POV First Person, POV John Watson, Romantic Friendship, Sassy Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Stargazing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:01:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>824</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27737941</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You know that Tumblr post. I know that Tumblr post. Okay, I'll stop. Based off a classic Tumblr post. </p><p>(Gifted to cwb because I love cwb. Hey, I should make this a thing and gift works to all the authors I like!)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sherlock Holmes/John Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>why i'm going to hell (short works) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>please deduce the stars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/cwb/gifts">cwb</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“John.”</p><p>“John.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Tell me what you see.” </p><p>“It’s the fucking middle of the night, Christ.”</p><p>“John. Come on.”</p><p>I blink and turn, trying to chase the woken-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night fatigue. Of course, why did I even think I’ll get sufficient sleep when camping out for a case with Sherlock? God, how presumptuous of stupid little me. Fucking hell, I was actually having good sleep. </p><p>I yawn, unhinging my jaw in the process. Sherlock huffs, because he’s so important he can’t even wait for humans to fully process their current surroundings before providing him what he wants. If I weren’t so tired I would scream at him.</p><p>“What?” My voice sounds breathy. Shit, Sherlock looks perfectly poised, as usual. I hate this man.</p><p>“Tell me what you observe.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Look around, tell me what you observe from the surroundings.”</p><p>“Is there someone around?” My hand starts reaching for my jeans, my gun concealed by the baggy denim, but Sherlock just slaps my arm away.</p><p>“Relax. There’s no danger.”</p><p>“Then why the fuck did you wake me up, damn it?”</p><p>“This is important. Just do it and then you can go back to sleep.” Oh, yeah, he’s controlling my fucking sleep schedule too, it’s like he’s finding more and more ways to completely invade my mind. Why I put up with this arrogant bastard is still a mystery to me.</p><p>“God, I fucking hate you.” Sherlock doesn’t even look tired. There are lots of twinkles in his eyes, which are deep blue at the moment, and a glance at the sky can tell why.</p><p>There are so many stars. It’s gorgeous. London light pollution means there’s barely any visible ones, usually, maybe one or two small dots if you squint. I suspect the entire galaxy is right here.</p><p>I think it’s some kind of primal instinct, deep within human veins (does that make sense? I think not) to look up at the stars once in a while, so I enjoy the view in silence, transfixed, until Sherlock clears his throat.</p><p>“I’m waiting.” He shuffles in his spot, like he wants to stretch but has no motivation to. The fabric of the sleeping bag makes a sound as he turns his head so he’s facing me. The attention is flattering, even though Sherlock would happily stare into your soul as much as he likes to to deduce you. </p><p>I’m going delirious with lack of sleep, I could just nod off right now, but I know that Sherlock would simply wake me up again and again until I solve the fucking puzzle or something. Why disturb my perfectly fine sleep to amuse yourself? Jesus Christ. </p><p>Okay, let’s see. This surely has something to do with the spectacular view in front of us.</p><p>I see you want to know about the solar system, genius,  which you’ve previously concluded in one simple sentence: ‘what does it matter?’ but now, even the regular beauty of starry skies are getting to you. Fine, I’ll take pity on you because you’re asking so eagerly. </p><p>“Well, I see millions and millions of stars.” Good job. Open to further inquiry, as Sherlock would definitely ask more about it, always desperate to find some kind of flaw in goldfish logic. Not tonight, Holmes.</p><p>“What do you deduce from that?” Sherlock’s gaze is unwavering. </p><p>“What is there to deduce? It’s a fact, those don’t need much deduction.”</p><p>“Committing facts to memory before attempting to think them through is an unwise choice, John, please deduce.”</p><p>“What the hell, there’s nothing to deduce!” I want to wring his skinny neck.</p><p>Sherlock just falls silent, and we stare at each other for a long while, until I finally can’t take it and just snap, “Fine! I’ll deduce. You’re not allowed to get mad when I’m wrong.”</p><p>“There’s hitting and missing, and then there’s aiming at the wrong direction entirely.”</p><p>“What does that even mean?” That’s very metaphorical for Sherlock.</p><p>“Nothing. Go on.”</p><p>“If there are millions of stars out there, that means there are planets out there, just like the one we’re living on.” Did I really forget the name of Earth? If Sherlock wakes me up at night and makes me pass some kind of deduction test again, I wouldn’t entertain him anymore. “So, there is probably life out there, besides on Earth?”</p><p>Sherlock goes radio silent, just continues looking into my eyes. Where can I look except back into his? It’s so ridiculous, we’re looking into each other's eyes when there’s a whole sky of stars to look at. </p><p>“Did I get it right?” I have no idea why I’m asking. For approval. Damn it, I don't want to sleep anymore, I just want to stare at this sky with Sherlock. </p><p>Sherlock closes his eyes and takes a long, deep breath. For a second I think he’s fallen asleep, then he opens them abruptly and hisses “For God’s sake, John, you idiot, it means someone has stolen our tent!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As you can tell, I clearly wrote this at 3 in the morning. My John voice isn't very good, but shit, I'm trying. I don't know what else to say. I think I should take a nap.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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